in detail – close up

June 29, 2011

Some poppy seed was cast in early spring – just an old packet that had been hanging around – and gentle, beautiful delicate plants have emerged from the stony ground . . .

. . with gaura, verbena and stipa, the front strip of a garden looks like a natural wildflower haven but, of course, it’s totally not natural! It’s all contrived. In this house there is a need to do something different with the front strip each year. That’s designers for you!  The flowering of the Geranium madarense was a  knockout sensation  such proliferation. Now naturally it has gone to seed with the last flower just hanging on . . .

. . .the seed heads stand proud and make strong silhouettes.

Across the path on the other strip of land that is also gardened but belongs to no one legally, Euphorbia mellifera has also flowered well and now set seed. Bees love it and the sparrows use it as mid way perch as they hone in on the seeds of last years phormium.

Sparrows also like the seeds of the silvery Atriplex that nestles around the stone lion. This lion came from Rome, many years ago, and has been in many gardens with me . . . .

. . . at the allotment, I admire Mel’s fine looking radishes and her red and black currants. Mel’s plot is by the entrance so her plants and produce receive much inspection. She can cope though!

Between Mel and the neighbouring plot, is a yellow rose. It looks incongruous just here but flowers on well. Who knows who or why or when  it was planted. Allotments contain many abnormalities.

Great artichokes – so statuesque.

And an eryngium from Piet Oudolf’s nursery. It may be ‘Jos Eiking’ but I’ve long since lost the label . . .

. . . and the agastache – well, could be ‘Blue Fortune’, but again I’ve lost the label! It looks good with the sedum though.

Now, I know this is Sedum ‘Red Cauli’ and it did come from the Oudolf Nursery. I also know that the rose below is R. chinensis ‘Mutabilis’ and I’ve been boring people for years about the beauty and long flowering period.

Victory. It has come late, I had not learnt
how to arrive, like the lily, at will,
the white figure, that pierces
the motionless eternity of earth,
pushing at clear, faint, form,
till the hour strikes: that clay,
with a white ray, or a spur of milk.
Shedding of clothing, the thick darkness of soil,
on whose cliff the fair flower advances,
till the flag of its whiteness
defeats the contemptible deep of night,
and, from the motion of light,
spills itself in astonished seed. Pablo Neruda  Enigma with Flower

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